Marshmallow
by SS Fourniner
Summary: What in the world was going on? Why was it, when he could handle being told he should be dead, handle glares and middle fingers and hard lockers bruising his back, that he couldn't do this? WARNINGS: dirty talk, rough sex, safewording


**Title:** Marshmallow  
><strong>Rating:<strong> Mature/NC17  
><strong>Characters: <strong>Kurt/Blaine  
><strong>Summary:<strong> _What in the world was going on? Why was it, when he could handle being told he should be dead, handle glares and middle fingers and hard lockers bruising his back, that he couldn't do this?_  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> This is a work of fiction; I don't own the characters, just the story.  
><strong>Warnings:<strong>dirty talk, rough sex, safewording

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><p>Blaine leaned over Kurt, supporting his weight on forearms. "I'm going to fuck you so hard," he said before pushing in.<p>

Kurt keened, his back arching at the burn.

"You like that?" Blaine asked, voice rough, and his breath tickling the back of Kurt's neck.

Kurt didn't answer, so Blaine pulled out a couple of inches and shoved back in. A whimper caught in Kurt's throat, and he whispered "yes, yes, yes" even as he flailed a bit at the sensations.

"What? What do you like?" the dark-haired boy asked, pulling away, nearly out of Kurt's body, before gliding forward. "You like the stretch? Hmm? Or do you like me talking dirty to you - talking to you like the slut you are?"

Kurt's breath hitched, and his cheeks blushed. Even though he realized that this was the direction Blaine would be going in, it still embarrassed him to hear such filth coming from the mouth of his usually reserved boyfriend. A hard thrust tore a cry out of his mouth, and Blaine was speaking again.

"I asked you a question," he said, punctuating his statement with another rough shove. Though Kurt knew it wasn't possible, it felt as if Blaine's huge shaft was halfway up his body, pushing against his belly button and rearranging his insides. Every time Blaine pulled out, Kurt took in a quick breath, just to have it forced from him with every return. Suddenly, Blaine's hips start pistoning, rapidly driving into Kurt's body. Kurt whined, his hands fisting the comforter on either side of his face. He had expected Blaine to slow down after a few thrusts, but when the other boy kept up the harsh movements, Kurt pushed himself up and flailed a hand back to rest on Blaine's hip.

"Blaine! Please! It's too much," he choked out, his upper body falling back to the bed when Blaine positioned a hand at the back of Kurt's neck and pressed down.

"Well then," Blaine started, his thrusting returning to a slower, more even pattern. "I suggest you answer me when I talk to you."

Kurt nodded his head fiercely when Blaine settled his hand back on Kurt's milky-white hip.

"Now," he continued, "I believe I asked you if you liked being spoken to as if you were a dirty slut."

Moaning, Kurt pushed his ass back towards Blaine. "Yes."

Blaine clucked his tongue. "I thought so. You're such as slut. Whose slut are you?"

"Yours!" Kurt answered breathlessly. "Yours, Blaine; I'm yours!"

Blaine smiled and rewarded his beautiful boyfriend with a few minutes of gentle sliding. He brought his hands over Kurt's ass and lower back, sometimes using his nails to lightly scratch. Kurt pushed back greedily, soft sounds spilling from his lips.

Moving his hands to get a better grip on Kurt's flanks, Blaine started pulling his boyfriend back onto his dick instead of thrusting forward. Kurt mewled at the manhandling, and then gasped as a zing of pleasure shot up his spine when Blaine scooted forward a bit and the angle of penetration changed.

"Oh, right there!" Kurt begged.

Blaine nodded, and when he realized Kurt couldn't see him, he asked, "Right there?"

"Yes… yes… please… oh! Blaine!" Kurt spasmed each time Blaine brushed along the sensitive nerve endings, causing Blaine to moan low in his throat at the way Kurt wriggled.

"That's right, tighten that fat ass - massage my dick," Blaine demanded, working to maintain the angle.

The fair-skinned boy below frowned and whimpered at the less-than-endearing sentiment, but shook his head and tried to concentrate on the amazing feel of Blaine filling him up, stretching his inner walls and sliding against his prostate.

"I love it, I love it!" Blaine groaned, hands tightening further on Kurt's hips and resuming his forward thrusts instead of pulling Kurt back to him. "You are such a good slut, aren't you?"

"Hmmmm," Kurt hummed neutrally. He had thought dirty talk might be fun, and Blaine was eager to show off the crude language he'd picked up watching some of his favorite movies, but Kurt was finding that being called a slut wasn't really that much of a turn-on; it was actually a bit of the opposite, to be truthful.

"I thought so. You like getting used. You just love having your hole fucked. You'd let anyone do it," Blaine commented.

"No," Kurt whined. "Just you. Only you, Blaine."

Blaine leaned back over Kurt, resting some of his weight on the other boy's back as he pulled him up to hands and knees with an arm wrapped around his torso. Leaning in to whisper in Kurt's ear, Blaine said, "I don't believe you. I don't believe you at all." Kurt shook his head, but Blaine continued. "You're a dirty whore; a slut who can't get enough cock. Of course you'd let anyone nail you."

"Blaine…" Kurt warned, his eyes starting to burn. He wasn't sure why he was getting increasingly upset, especially when he knew that Blaine didn't believe any of what he was saying; it was just a part of the game, meaningless words made to rile them up.

"Don't 'Blaine' me. You're a cum receptacle - aren't you, Kurt?"

"Blaine!" Kurt admonished harshly, shocked at what he had just heard. It was one thing to throw around words like 'slut' and 'whore', but… that? The picture it painted in his mind, it was just so… disgusting. It made Kurt _feel_ disgusting. Kurt turned slightly to see that Blaine was looking at him anxiously. Biting his lip, Kurt shook his head slightly.

"The… talk, you mean?" Blaine asked, eyebrows drawing in, a slight wince on his face.

Kurt nodded. "I'm sorry."

Blaine let out a huge breath and laughed, pulling Kurt up so that they were kneeling upright, the position forcing his cock in as far as it could go. At Kurt's uncontrollable moan and subsequent confused look, Blaine said: "Thank goodness. I don't like calling you a slut, or a whore, or a…"

"Okay, okay! I get it!" Kurt giggled, angling his face to nuzzle at Blaine's neck.

"Can we try something else?" Blaine asked, head raised and tilted so that Kurt could place little kisses behind his ear.

Kurt smirked against Blaine's skin, a small smile playing on his lips. "Sure," he agreed.

Blaine spread his thighs a bit, forcing Kurt's own wider. He wrapped an arm around the thin waist and used the other to splay against Kurt's lower neck and collarbone to keep the blushing boy's head pushed back and resting on Blaine's shoulder. "I love your ass," he murmured, thrusting up quickly and making Kurt squeal and jerk. He readjusted his hold on his boyfriend's lithe body and started up a rhythm of short, fast strokes. "I love your ass," he repeated.

Kurt huffed a tiny laugh. It would only be fitting that Blaine go from calling Kurt a slut one second to breaking down to sappy praise the next.

It wasn't long before they were breathing hard and straining against one another. Kurt had taken to begging "more" and "harder", and try as he might, Blaine could only move so much in their upright stance. While he loved the intimacy and closeness, what he really wanted to be doing was pounding into Kurt hard enough to reduce the other boy to mindless, wordless cries. With a quick kiss to Kurt's jaw, Blaine pushed the spiky-haired boy down so he was once against resting on his chest, ass held high and pushed out for Blaine to ravish.

"Oh, man…" Blaine moaned, big hands covering the globes of Kurt's behind. "This ass." He spread the cheeks so he could watch his manhood enter Kurt's tiny hole and take in the way the skin was stretched tight around his throbbing dick.

Kurt relaxed against the bedding, feeling warm and content from the attention being lavished on his body. He nearly purred when Blaine started massaging his ass, using his thumbs and strong fingers to rub deep circles into the alabaster skin.

"You're so pale, Kurt," Blaine whispered reverently. "Your skin is so white and smooth," he said, stroking his hands upwards to caress at firm hips and up Kurt's back. "Just like a ghost, or a cotton ball - no, no, no. Like a _marshmallow_… yeah."

Kurt, who had been sighing steadily at the silky glide of Blaine's length in and out of his body, hiccupped abruptly. _A marshmallow_? Had Blaine really just called him that? The way Blaine's hands skimmed along his sides suddenly made Kurt feel a bit uncomfortable. Maybe Kurt didn't have a body that was muscled and defined like Blaine's or Finn's, but he wasn't in bad shape, he didn't think.

"Look at these cheeks, Kurt," Blaine growled, warm hands going back to palm Kurt's behind. His thrusts got faster as he massaged the firm flesh.

Kurt was actually a little underweight for his height and age. He ate healthy and exercised regularly, and he took multi-vitamins to make sure that he wasn't lacking in any necessary nutrients - a risk he faced since he tended to stay away from red meat and dairy.

"They're so big; I can barely get my hands to cover them."

Simple carbs were his weakness, though, if he was going to be honest. He loved pretzels and rice cakes, and he routinely had toast at daybreak with his coffee. But, he always added some extra time to his morning jogging routine whenever he felt he had gone overboard the night prior.

"I don't know how you stuff them in those pants you like to wear."

Kurt was a strong person… maybe not physically, but he definitely had a strong spirit. It was something he had to have to withstand the abuse hurled daily at him by bullies. He had been called some terrible names these last couple of years - absolutely horrific words that should bring shame upon anyone who even dared to _think _them - and while he sometimes got misty-eyed at the cruelty, he didn't cry. He would let the tears fall when pushed and shoved, punched and slapped, because he couldn't control how badly those hurt, but he would never cry over words. Yet, naked with his boyfriend pounding into him and calling him - of all things - a marshmallow, he found he couldn't control the way his eyes glazed over.

"I wonder how many pants you've ruined by bending over."

What in the world was going on? Why was it, when he could handle being called a faggot or a homo, handle being told he should be dead, handle glares and middle fingers and hard lockers bruising his back, that he couldn't do this?

"And here; look at how I can grab on here," Blaine all of a sudden grasped onto Kurt's hips, but rather than anchoring on bone, he pinched at skin.

"Ow!" Kurt flew up at the stinging grip. The shift drove the length of Blaine's cock along Kurt's prostate, and the boy couldn't help the scream that tore out of his mouth and the shudder that went through his body. Tightening his fingers even harder, Blaine pulled out and pushed in again at the same angle.

"That's right, baby, scream," he commanded, thrusting again.

"Blaine."

"Louder, I want to hear you - come on."

"Blaine!"

Blaine opened his fingers and reached forward, his hands moving onto Kurt's soft stomach and squeezing.

Kurt turned his face quickly, the sudden movement cooling tear tracks he hadn't even realized were there. "Blaine," he whispered desperately. "Stop it, please."

Blaine's head was angled upwards and his eyes were screwed shut, and Kurt realized Blaine was in his own little world, the pressure and pleasure mounting and pulling him towards orgasm. Kurt reached a hand to his middle and tried to pry his boyfriend's fingers away from the slightly-squishy area, but the next thrust jolted his prostate again, and he fell face-first into the bed linens, his cheek rubbing painfully against the rough material until he could get both his hands under him.

Feeling wretched and openly crying, Kurt tried to pull away again, but Blaine laid over him and held on tighter to the skin and tiny layer of fat that was Kurt's belly. The boy kneaded the area as he moaned, mouthing at the center of Kurt's back and breathing sentiments Kurt couldn't quite hear.

"My little marshmallow," Blaine crooned loudly, and Kurt could literally feel something break inside him, turning hitching breaths and steady tears into full-blown sobbing.

"_Arrêter_," Kurt choked out, his shoulders shaking, and his hands balling uncomfortably in the comforter.

_Stop._

"Hmmm? What was that, baby?" Blaine asked, dropping delicate kisses along Kurt's spine.

"_Arrêtez, s'il vous plait_!"

_Stop, please!_

Blaine stopped moving, his heart suddenly pounding and feeling as if it was in his in throat. "Kurt?" he whispered, relaxing his hands and laying them flat on Kurt's stomach. "Kurt? Did you just say…?"

"Please…" Kurt whimpered, his voice sounding miserable and hoarse.

"Oh, shit." Blaine carefully pulled out and gently pushed Kurt so he was settled on his side. Bending down, one hand on Kurt's cheek and the other on his shoulder, he asked desperately, "What happened? Did I hurt you? Oh, my goodness - I hurt you! What did I do?"

Kurt shook his head, hiding tightly squeezed eyelids behind his hands.

"Kurt, no - don't do that," Blaine begged, tugging away his lover's fingers. "I need to know what's wrong."

"I… I…" Kurt couldn't think of what to say.

"Are you hurt?"

"No."

"Okay… okay. Can you sit up?"

Taking a deep breath, Kurt started to push himself up. Blaine wrapped a hand around the closest bicep and helped situate the boy so he was sitting more upright. Kurt kept his eyes downcast, and it took Blaine's gentle hand to lift his chin.

"Kurt," Blaine breathed, aching at Kurt's flushed, wet face and shiny eyes. He enveloped the boy in a tight hug, and Kurt sobbed anew.

Rocking him slightly, Blaine held the boy until his breath hitched and he started to pull away. They sat in silence for a moment until Kurt hesitantly raised his eyes and softly asked, "Do you really think I'm… you know?" Kurt trailed off and didn't speak until Blaine raised his eyebrows and shook his head slightly in confusion: "My hips… my stomach?"

Blaine's eyes widened, understanding hitting him like a freight train, and he quickly shook his head in the negative. "No, no, no, no… oh, Kurt! There's nothing wrong with your body. You're beautiful."

"But you said…"

"I didn't mean… I mean, I was just… I was just talking, being in the moment, you know? I love you, Kurt. I love _all_ of you. I wasn't trying to hurt you."

Kurt's own eyes widened as realization struck him as well.

_I love you._

**That** was why he couldn't handle it! It suddenly occurred to him that it's one thing when someone that you know hates you says mean things, does mean things, wishes mean things. But when it's someone you care about, someone you respect… someone you love… they hold and sometimes unknowingly wield weapons that even the thickest, strongest armor can't defend against.

Kurt shuffled forward a few inches and pressed his cheek against Blaine's. He turned after a second or two and placed a chaste kiss on the stubble-roughen skin. Blaine pulled back so he could look into Kurt's eyes, and when one side of Kurt's mouth curled up a bit, he moved forward to brush his lips against Kurt's, silently asking permission. Kurt responded with a brush of his own lips, and soon they were kissing, closed-mouthed and with their hands drifting over each other's bodies.

Blaine pressed forward harder, forcing Kurt to move backwards until he was on his back and Blaine was hovering above him, their lips never separating. Blaine kept one hand behind Kurt's neck, supporting him while they languidly explored each other's mouths, and allowed his other hand to caress Kurt's body. He ran his palm over one of Kurt's pecs, briefly ghosting fingers over a nipple and then moving with soft strokes down Kurt's side and over his flat belly. He ignored the way Kurt tensed slightly, and when he reached the coarse patch of dark hair at Kurt's groin, Blaine scratched lightly at the area before wrapping his hand around Kurt's half-hard dick.

Kurt gasped into the kiss, whimpering lightly as Blaine stroked him with firm, steady pulls of his hand. Kurt tore his mouth away from Blaine's to moan loudly when the other boy ran a thumb over the head of his cock to collect a drop of fluid.

Their faces were so close they were sharing the same breaths when Blaine said, "You're so beautiful, Kurt. Your body, your strength, your soul - I've never been more attracted to another person."

"Blaine," Kurt whined breathlessly, one of his hands curling at the hair at the back of Blaine's neck, the other at this shoulder, his hips stuttering as Blaine continued jacking him. He could feel the dark-haired boy's own hardness pressing into his thigh, proving that the last words he'd spoken were true. "I'm close," Kurt gasped.

Blaine let go of Kurt's erection and settled on top of him. He pulled one of Kurt's legs to settle over his shoulder and wrapped the other one around his waist, exposing his boyfriend's twitching hole. He poured a bit of lube from the bottle on the nightstand into his hand and pumped himself twice before wiping clean with a discarded shirt and lining himself up with Kurt's opening.

He pushed forward at the same instant he took Kurt's mouth, swallowing the boy's surprised gasp. Blaine wasted no time starting a faster rhythm, and Kurt keened and clutched desperately at Blaine's shoulder and neck.

Blaine tucked his face into the spot where Kurt's own shoulder met his neck and placed several, wet kisses there before confessing, "Your eyes remind me of the sky. They are so bright and colorful. Sometimes, I swear they're as blue as the water at Lake George."

"Oh, Blaine," Kurt whispered, his eyes watering, but with happy tears this time.

"Other times, they remind me of granite. And when I'm really lucky, I get gold that is more precious, more valuable than all the riches in the world."

Kurt suddenly tensed, his back arching and the leg around Blaine's waist tightening. Blaine knew it was because he had found his prostate, and he continued to aim in that direction.

"Your skin is so soft. I could spend hours touching you, just running my hands all over your body."

Kurt's mouth dropped open and he panted, small cries and sharp exhalations filling the room. "Blaine, I'm so close," he warned.

Moving faster, Blaine continued. "Your hands; I love holding your hands. There's such strength in your hands, Kurt. I feel it whenever you touch me - I see it whenever you work."

"Blaine! Blaine!" Kurt shouted, his hips snapping up, seed bubbling and spurting from his manhood.

Blaine didn't stop moving, but rather kept forcing his way into Kurt's spasming body over and over again. "Your lips, Kurt," he hissed, dropping his head and harshly taking Kurt's mouth. He kissed him once, twice, hard and dirty, before pulling back for, "I love it when they're on mine. I love it when you use them to tickle behind my ear, when you use them to pleasure me."

"Oh, God," Kurt stuttered. He could hear everything Blaine was saying, but couldn't respond. His body shook uncontrollably, hips jerking as Blaine pummeled his oversensitive gland.

"Your ass… when you walk, I can barely keep myself from grabbing you and rubbing my hands all over it." Blaine moved a hand down and dug his fingers into the pliable flesh. "You think I'm a gentleman because I offer to carry your bags at the mall, but the truth is, I need something in my hands, so I don't maul you in public."

"Blaine, oh, Blaine, I love you… oh, oh, it's… it's too much."

"No," Blaine disagreed. "No, it's never too much."

Kurt laughed despite the fact that even though it had taken all his concentration to get that broken sentence out, Blaine had misunderstood.

"That's not… that's not what I meant."

"I know exactly what you meant. That feeling - that feeling of pleasure that's so intense it almost hurts, so bright you can't see, so hot it burns every square inch of your body - that's how I feel when I'm with you, Kurt. How you feel now… that's how I feel whenever I'm lucky enough to be in your presence."

Blaine moved the hand that had been kneading at Kurt's ass, and once again wrapped it around Kurt's limp penis. Kurt surged at the unexpected touch, and he broke into ragged panting when Blaine immediately started squeezing and massaging the flesh, using every trick he knew to bring on a speedy hard-on.

"Your cock… I love your cock," Blaine bit out, his hand moving rapidly over Kurt's stiffening flesh. He tightened his fist and rubbed over the head, causing Kurt to thrash, arms and legs locking and releasing, trying to push away and pull closer at the same time. Dropping his chest onto Kurt's, Blaine used his chin to push Kurt's face to the side so that he could attack the pale boy's neck. Between bites, he said, "I love looking at it. I love touching it. I love sucking it. I love watching and feeling it get hard."

"Blaine!" Kurt was screaming again, his eyes scrunched up, his lips trembling; his opening, his whole passage constricting, bearing down with nearly unbearable pressure around Blaine's dick.

Blaine gave a scream of his own, redoubling his thrusting efforts into the hot, moist heat; abandoning Kurt's prick in favor for wrapping an arm around the boy's lower back and canting his hips upwards to make thrusting easier, harder, faster. His cock ached, felt so sensitive it burned, but he pressed on, pressed more vigorously.

Kurt was coming again before he could control it, helpless and unable to move against the tight grip Blaine had on him. His heart pounded, his chest burned, and each jerk of his cock sent a new, overwhelming wave of pleasure through every nerve in his body.

As if from a great distance, he could hear Blaine yelling, screaming his name as he thrust twice more and held himself as deep into Kurt as he could.

The boys collapsed on each other as if their marionette strings had been cut. Sweat coated their bodies, their desperate, hot breaths fell against each other's faces, and it felt as if their bones were made of butter.

Blaine raised his lower half far enough to slowly, carefully free himself of Kurt's body, and he fell onto his back next to his exhausted lover. After a few, quiet moments spent catching their breaths, Blaine moved onto his side to look at Kurt. Cupping his boyfriend's cheek, Blaine brought his face closer to Kurt's.

"Are you okay?" he asked, lips brushing against Kurt's own as he spoke.

Kurt nodded before audibly agreeing. He closed the distance and partook in a slow, sensual kiss with Blaine. "I love you," he whispered when they broke apart, his light-colored eyes gazing into blissed-out brown ones.

"_T'es la plus belle chose au monde_," Blaine murmured, smiling lazily when his boyfriend's eyes lit up.

_You are the most beautiful thing in the world._

"_Et toi es la plus incroyable_," Kurt replied breathily, settling into Blaine's arms and pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder.

_And you are the most amazing._

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><p><em>For those of you who have read and commented on <em>_**Fractured**__, I wanted to let you know that a sequel is indeed in the works. It may be a while, but it will definitely be done. Thank you all for taking the time to comment and review._


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